DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 OR EASILY OFFENDED BY SEXUAL MATERIAL, BONDAGE, DISCIPLINE, FEMALE SUBMISSION OR OTHER SEXUAL SITUATIONS.
Ms Americana/Brenda Wade, Flag Girl/Lydia Wills and Delta City are the creations of Mr. X. I came up with the villains.
Please direct all comments and feedback to dark_one@live.com. Put Ms Americana, the story’s title or Story feedback in subject line, otherwise I might think it is spam and delete. Or visit my blog at: http://writer-dark-one.livejournal.com/.
MS AMERICANA: GOOD THING
By Dark One
“Perfect,” Ms Americana said, studying her full, red and
very glossy lips in the mirror. Her baby
blues studied her face – eye makeup perfect, silky black hair perfect, mask and
tiara looked perfect. Even her red star
earrings and choker looked perfect on her. “Can’t do better than that. Good thing, too.”
The super sexy super heroine climbed out of her red, white
and blue supped up sports car. The
street was brightly lit right there. She
was only at the edge of Sugar Town, after all.
She scowled as she looked around, spotting streetwalkers and johns,
pushers and addicts, tourist and the more depraved of Delta City’s locals.
Ms Americana looked down at her 38G boobs. They were held tight and perfectly, sexily
displayed in a strapless top – one huge cup red and white stripes and the other
blue with white stars. Gold trim
finished it out spectacularly. She
reached up and pulled up on the tender white flesh, plumping those sweet
puppies up even more. What man could
resist them? None she’d ever met. Then she pulled up on her matching bikini
bottoms, thongs of course, snugging them up nicely. The pressure on her freshly shaven pussy felt
way too good. Then she adjusted the
golden power belt around her narrow waist, settling it prettily upon her
flaring hips. The belt was the secret to
her awesome super powers. She was an Aphrodite
woman, and the belt unleashed her latent super powers. Without it, she was just an amazingly
athlete, but nothing too special.
Finally, the vivacious vigilante tugged on her red gauntlet gloves as
she studied her red calf boots, with the slender five inch stiletto heels. They were perfect, and for fifteen hundred
dollars they should be!
“Perfect.”
The legendary Queen of Justice turned and regarded the
building she was parked in front of. It
sat at the edge of Delta City’s more dangerous, most disreputable and depraved
red light district – Sugar Town. It was
a former hotel, now expanded to fill the whole block. The Palace was the premier cathouse in Delta
City, a city known for its houses of ill-repute. Ten stories tall, it bragged of having the
top three “Gentlemen’s Clubs” in the city, and over one thousand extremely
beautiful women to make every man’s most erotic fantasy come true. They catered to every fetish and perversion.
The sight of the building she hated more than any other
sent a chill down her spine. That chill
turned into raging butterflies deep in her belly. Even her snatch started to moisten up. She hated it when that happened. King Pimp owned that brothel from Hell, and
she’d never defeated him. Unfortunately,
in her fourteen year storied crime fighting career, he had gotten the drop on
her five times. Each resulted in her
getting her sweet round ass handed to her on a silver platter, and then him and
his boys fucking her stupid. Fortunately,
she’d always escaped before he could remove her mask.
Her throat tightened and her hands began to tremble a tiny
bit. The Palace and King Pimp always got
to her. Ms Americana fought to keep
thoughts of what he did to her during those captures suppressed. The last thing she needed now was to be
distracted by such disgusting thoughts.
The man had ZERO respect for women in general, and super heroines in
particular.
Ms Americana nodded at the two men in dark suits standing
beside a long, black Rolls-Royce limousine. The license plate was BW-1.
“Move fast, boys,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am,” they said.
They were big men, strong men. Wade Security officers,
and both highly decorated war heroes.
They cost a lot, but were well worth it.
Taking a deep, deep breath to steady her
nerves. “As soon as Ms Lydia
Wills comes out those doors you grab her and take her away to safety fast.”
“Consider it done, ma’am.”
“Her safety is my only concern right now, boys. Don’t let me down.”
With that, Ms Americana, the legendary Queen of Justice and
Delta City’s premier super heroine started walking towards the front door of
the Palace. The usual doorman was
missing, as were the big, hulking bouncers that usually framed the front door. She smiled, knowing she was the reason. Then with one more final deep breath, she
pulled open the door and stepped inside.
Ms Americana’s heart dropped instantly. Lydia was on her knees, naked save for a pair
of red stiletto pumps. A dog collar
encircled her slender throat, with a leash attached and going up to King Pimp’s
huge hand. The poor thing had a bright
red ball gag fastened around her head.
Tears of despair rolled freely down her flushed cheeks.
The super shapely super heroine had to quickly brush away a
single tear rolling out of her eye. The
main entry was packed with men and women, johns and hookers, bouncers and other
staff. All were watching her
expectantly.
“Release Ms Wills.”
“Are you surrendering yourself to me?” King Pimp said. "You agree to take her place in The
Palace…as a WHORE."
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
Lydia started shaking her head NO, frantically. Ms Americana assumed a super heroine pose –
head high and chin up, chest thrust out, gloved hands on well rounded hips and
one leg cocked. It was a sassy pose. She shook back her waist-length, glossy black
hair and arched a haughty brow at the huge pimp.
King Pimp was a monster of a man. He towered at six foot six, with a short
afro, broad muscular shoulders and a narrow waist. She knew him to be a vicious fighter and a
ferocious lover. He was as massively
endowed as he was tall. He tamed her ass
a few times, a thought that sent her libido into overdrive at that critical
moment. Ms Americana fought to maintain
her composure, or at least her outwardly appearance of being composed.
“Release 'Lil Lydia,” King Pimp said.
“But boss, Ms Americana hasn’t surrendered properly to
you. She is next to the door and still
has on her power belt,” a bouncer said.
King Pimp glanced at Ms Americana. “Do you surrender?”
“I surrender. I am
yours to do with as you please, once Lydia is safely away.”
“The power belt?” he said.
The statuesque super heroine graced him with a tiny smile. “I’ll put it in your hand myself when Lydia
is safe.”
“What if I want it first?”
“No. I can be
trusted to keep my word. I don’t trust
you.”
King Pimp laughed.
He released the leash to fall on the floor. “Get her out the door, fast.”
Another bouncer grabbed Lydia by the arm and hauled her to
her feet. She was hurried to the front
door, right past Ms Americana. Lydia
reached out to her beloved mentor and guardian.
Their hands touched briefly. Then
she was out the door. Ms Americana
watched over her shoulder as Wade Security took Lydia away.
Brenda Wade had secured Lydia’s safety and future. Lydia didn’t know it, but she already
possessed all of Brenda’s wealth and companies.
She was being taken to a secure location, where she would be safe from
any threats.
“Lydia is a free woman,” King Pimp said. “As I promised. Now, about your promise.”
“It’s a good thing,” Ms Americana said, suddenly seized by
tremors. She fought them down, then took
two deep breathes. The moment of truth
had arrived. “Fate has spoken. I am yours, King Pimp.”
“My lover?”
“Lover. Whore.
Porn queen, whatever you want.”
“All of that, and much, much more,” King Pimp said,
grinning wickedly. He pointed at his
crotch, now tented by his raging hard-on.
“Tend me. Make it pretty for the
cameras.”
Half a dozen cameramen stepped out of the stunned silent
crowd. There were huge flat screen
monitors high up on the walls all around the room, where sports or porno movies
usually played. Now, those screens were
filled with her. Her
face, tits, ass, from different distances and angles. She felt her throat tighten some more, and
her belly did a flip. Her debauchment
would be well documented. King Pimp
would make a fortune selling the DVD.
“I am yours to command,” Ms Americana said hoarsely. She stepped up to her new lord and master,
and dropped to her knees. Actually, she
kind of expected him to rip off her top, but he didn’t. Apparently he wanted her in full costume for
the initial humiliation ceremony.
Trembling red-gloved fingers fumbled with his zipper, but soon were
pulling ten inches of thick, black cock out of his pants. Without hesitation, the Queen of Justice wrapped
her full red lips around the head of that dick, and started gobbling him down
hungrily. Indeed, she surprised herself
even more than the spectators at how eagerly she swallowed him down. Oddly enough, she never saw the wanton groan
she emitted coming. “Mmmmmmggggggghhhhhhh!”
“A natural born whore,” King Pimp said. He watched as the cameras zoomed in for
close-ups. Very tight close ups, of her
glossy red lips sliding up and down the length of his full ten inches. As great as it looked, it felt ten times
better. “Tell everyone who taught you to
give head and suck dick.”
“You did, King Pimp.
Thirteen years ago, when you captured me that first time,” Ms Americana
admitted between loud slurps and tiny little moans and groans. “You took my virginity, too, right after my
first cocksucking lesson.”
The assembled masses hooted and laughed with glee at her
admission. Ms Americana felt her face
flush, burning with shame, but at the same time her lower belly was
raging. Her twat was hyper hot, soaking wet. She was so damned horny. So she kept sucking, enjoying the taste of
King Pimp’s cock, and hating herself for loving it.
“Hmmmmmghh,” Ms Americana
groaned. She sucked on the head of his
cock, rolling her hot, wet tongue all around it and then licked the thick black
shaft from balls to head, and all around before swallowing him for some intense
head, followed by equally intense deep throat.
“MMmmmmmggghhhh.”
King Pimp held up well, lasting a good thirty-five minutes
of her most intense head and cock sucking.
Then he grasped and ballooned her cheeks, the
cameras zooming in to record the tiny bit of creamy white cum escaping around
her lips. His coming sent her libido
into overdrive. She squirmed on her
knees before him, hungrily sucking it all down with an eager mouth -- gulp…slurp…gulp…slurp…gulp…SLURP!
“Didn’t I tell you?” King Pimp declared triumphantly. “Ms Americana is not a superior woman, she is
a superior WHORE. A
wild WANTON whore. A whore born
and bred, and now upstairs is her whore bed.”
He threw back his head and laughed.
“Who will be Ms Americana’s very first paying customer? Who will be her first JOHN?”
Memememememememe they all cried
hysterically.
King Pimp laughed, then glanced
down at the sexy super heroine still sucking and licking his cock and balls
absolutely clean. Just
like he taught her so long ago.
She never failed to perform this all important service, either, without
prompting, even after all those years.
She was well trained, and he was proud to be the man who trained her.
“Stand up, Ameri-whore,” King Pimp said.
“Now what?” she asked, rising up to face him in a not so
haughty super heroine pose. Same pose as
before, but this time with a softer, sultrier look on her beautiful masked
face. “You want my belt now? Or my mask?”
The thought of her handing over her belt really fired up
his blood, but not as much as unmasking the arrogant, holier-than-thou super
heroine. He so wanted to know who was
behind that damned mask. But like
always, he knew that once she was unmasked the mystic would be lost. Right now, she was super sexy Ms Americana,
unmasked she was just another big-jugged bimbo in a bikini and heels.
“I think later,” King Pimp said. “After you are thoroughly tamed and
indoctrinated into your new life as a brothel whore. Besides, don’t you think your very first john
deserves to have you in full costume?”
Ms Americana felt overwhelming relief. Technically, she gave her sacred Word of
Honor to submit to King Pimp’s every whim and desire, up to and including
assuming a life of abject debauchery as his hooker. BUT if one of her sisters in crime fighting
should arrive, and rescue her…well, it wasn’t her fault. In fact, she purposely didn’t tell any of the
other super heroines about what was happening, just so her honor would remain
unstained if she was rescued. Of course,
the likelihood any of the other heroines knew of her plight was minuscule, but
it was all the hope she had. Otherwise,
once the mask came off her fate was set in stone.
“Do I pick my first trick, or do you?” Ms Americana said,
glancing around at all the eager-eyed perverts.
“You are my pimp now, after all.”
Everyone
of them, women included, wanted to impale her sweet round ass, and pay her
fifty dollars cash for the privilege. In
her fourteen years as Americana, she’d barely escaped actual prostitution more
times than she cared to count. True,
some deviants had caught her, tied her up and charged men to have sex with her. But she was not actively prostituting
herself. So she didn’t consider that
being a hooker. There were quite a few
handsome men in the crowd, and a lot of old and/or ugly men. Old, ugly and depraved greatly outnumbered
wholesome handsome men by a big margin.
“Lottery,”
King Pimp said. He signaled and his main
squeeze and the Palace’s head Hostess stepped forward with a large bowl cradled
in both hands. The gorgeous redhead was
a former Playboy Playmate of the Year, and was wearing a black leather bunny
costume complete with ears and cotton tail.
Beverly Beavers was a stunner, and second only to Ms Americana in that
room. “Everyone who wants you took a
number, and put it in the bowl. You will
pick the number of your first JOHN.”
The
room fell silent as the super stacked Queen of Justice reached into the large bowl. It was filled with little red tickets, the
other half torn off by the hopeful johns.
She stirred the tickets, driving the men crazy with anticipation. Ms Americana realized she was enjoying
herself. That seemed wrong, seeing as
she was choosing who would be the man (or woman) to seal her fate, to finally
after almost a decade and a half, turn her into a official hooker. The winner of the lottery would turn her into
the very kind of woman she hated and despised the most -- a pathetic, wretched
prostitute.
Finally,
the vivacious super vixen pulled out a single red ticket. She looked at the number, baby blues bugging
out in shock. Then she shook her head
woefully, knowing it had to be a sign from the Goddess that she was truly
abandoned and doomed.
“What
number?” King Pimp said.
“It’s…it’s….sheeze…,” she said, and took a deep breath. “The man, or JOHN, who gets the dubious honor
of fucking me into whoredom, is….number….69!”
Ms
Americana held the ticket out so King Pimp could read the number and he laughed. Indeed, most of the crowd noted the irony,
and laughed. But no one hooted with glee
more than the winner. Number 69 was a
tall, freckle-faced redhead. He was just
a little taller than Ms Americana in her sky high heels, but lanky.
“Strangely
enough,” King Pimp said loudly. “Ms
Americana is on the Super Heroine floor.
Floor 6.
Room 9.
Or…room 69.”
“Perfect,”
Ms Americana said. She shrugged. She was there of her own volition. She was doing the “right thing” and a very
“good thing” to save her protégé. She
was responsible for Lydia’s well being, so there she was. Taking Lydia’s place at The
Palace. “Shall we go upstairs,
lover?”
Loverboy
reached over and gave her 38Gs a firm squeeze.
Ms Americana slapped it hand away, but otherwise didn’t do
anything. She really expected to be
treated far worse than what she was getting.
The john laughed, and patted her firm round butt cheeks. She let that pass, and took him by hand
instead. Holding hands kept him from
touching her further.
“He
still has to pay, Ms Ameri-whore,” King Pimp called. “Fifty dollars for this
first trick, one hundred after that.
You are, or WERE, the premier super heroine in Delta City, after all.”
They
all laughed at that. She didn’t think it
was so funny. But then, she was the
loser of this deal from Hell.
“Perfect.”
Ms
Americana led him into the elevator, and pushed 6. The elevator shot right up to the 6th
floor. Far faster than
she found comforting. It was as
if even the building was eager to see her finally, forever slapped down and put
in her place.
The
elevator doors opened up to reveal the legendary, infamous and highly notorious
Super Heroine Floor. They stopped to
look around the elevator lobby on the sixth floor, both stunned. Directly before them were double doors, with
the lobby walls covered in “action” shots of Delta City’s top super heroines
over the years, getting fucked. To the
left of the doors was a full-sized side shot of Ms Americana bent over at the
waist, with King Pimp fucking her up from behind. Her top was on the floor below the sexy super
heroine, while her bottoms were pooled around her booted ankles. Her all important golden power belt was held high in King Pimp’s left hand while his right
hand had a fistful of shiny black hair.
A fat john was standing in front of her, his cock shoved down the Queen
of Justice’s throat.
“Wow,”
her red-headed john said, gawking and getting hornier.
“That
was the first time King Pimp captured me.
In fact, that is the very moment I lost my virginity,” she whispered,
her mind full of that intense moment so long ago, and yet felt like
yesterday. It was a moment she NEVER
forgot, and dreamed about many times a week.
“I escaped, but I understand he still has that costume and power belt on
display somewhere within The Palace. His
greatest battle trophy, no doubt.”
To
the right of the doors was another full-sized poster, but this was of a hogtied
Lady Midnight eating out a helpless Flag Girl’s pussy. A man is butt-fucking Lady Midnight at the
same time, while another has his cock down Flag Girl’s eager mouth. That photo was from just six months
back. At the time, Ms Americana was
behind the cameraman taking the video that picture was taken from, getting
lesbian fucked by Beverly Beavers and a hot redheaded whore, while King Pimp
watched with wicked glee. Ms Americana
and Flag Girl escaped just ten minutes later, but poor Lady Midnight was
unmasked and still working in the Super Heroine Lounge as far as Ms Americana
knew.
To
their right was the Wall of Shamed Super Heroines. On that walls were glamour headshots of each
super heroine available for hire within the Super Heroine Lounge. The sexy super heroine’s right eyebrow rose
when she spotted her on PR headshot at the top, in the place of honor.
“Let’s
go in, I’m super horny, babe.”
“I
bet you are,” Ms Americana said, trying hard to not sneer. She’d agreed to do this, to be King Pimp’s
whore. Therefore, honor demanded she be
the best hooker she possibly could be.
“I’m so hot for you, too, baby.
Let’s go do this.”
Above
the double doors was a sign: Welcome to
Super Heroine Hell.
The
doors were open, so they walked through hand-in-hand. The lounge beyond was larger than Ms
Americana expected. The color theme was
red and black. First thing, she spotted
the three stages with stripper poles.
Lady Midnight was in full costume dancing on one, with a completely
naked Wolf Woman sixty-nining Jungle Babe on another,
and a topless Champion Girl pole dancing on another. At the bar to the side, and at numerous bistro
tables, couches and booths, she spotted captured sidekicks and lesser heroines
chatting up johns, giving lap dances, or getting reamed out royally. To her surprise, she spotted some heroines
from other cities she never knew King Pimp owned. Glory Girl was giving an old man a lap dance,
while Puritan was leading a pair of black men toward a door in back. Then Ebony Avenger climbed up on stage with
Lady Midnight and the two African American beauties started making out
passionately.
To
Ms Americana’s shame, her libido was super charged after one look at that
room. It was a room she would soon troll
for hooker work. Within the hour she
would be in there, dancing, lap dancing, making out and other wicked things.
Most
of the room fell silent and stared open-mouthed at Ms Americana. The other heroines looked grim, but the men
looked excited. With a tight throat and
hammering heart, the sexy vanquished vigilante led her first trick through that
room and to the door Puritan left through.
“Room
69, Americana,” the bartender called out.
“I
know,” she said, and led the way into a darker hallway.
The
hallway had red carpet and gaudy red and gold wallpaper and gilded
fixtures. Beside each door was a poster
of the heroine working within, with her super heroine name and real name
listed. Most of the doors were closed,
but a handful were open with sexy super heroines standing there waiting for
customers. She spotted Shield in room
62, and Southern Girl in 67. Then they
reached room 69. Her poster was already
up. It was a PR poster of her in a
classic super heroine pose.
The
sexy super heroine opened the door with trembling hands, and stepped inside her
new home. It was a ten by ten room, with
a twin sized bed, a straight back chair, small table next to the chair and
finished out with a sink and toilet. It
stank of stale sex already. On the walls
were more kinky action shots of Ms Americana’s previous captures, getting
fucked, tied up and otherwise debauched.
There was even a mirror over the bed so she could watch herself being
fucked for money. Steel bars covered the
window.
“Be
it ever so disgusting, there’s no place like home,” she said, nose scrunched
up.
“Hey,
can we do that?” the john said, pointing at a picture of Ms Americana getting
fucked with her booted feet crossed behind her head. In the picture her ankles were bound, and
then tied to her throat. It was a
particularly insidious bondage pose, and one she hoped to never repeat.
“I’m not that limber anymore. Fifty dollars, please,” Ms Americana said,
turning to face her first john after closing the door. She held out a red gloved hand and waited,
and prayed he failed to have the required sum.
But he eagerly laid two twenties and a ten in her hand. She quickly counted it, twice, then stuffed the money down her left boot top. No pockets.
“Get naked and in the bed, please,” Ms Americana said.
“You’re really going through with this, aren’t you?” he
said, amazed.
“Of course. I gave my word. Ms Americana does NOT lie, buster,” the sexy
super heroine said, baby blues narrowing dangerously. “I belong to King Pimp now, and he wants me
to turn tricks. So I turn tricks. Simple as that.”
“This is so cool!” he said, pulling off his shirt, then hopping around as he pulled off his shoes. “I can’t wait to tell all my friends that I
fucked Ms Fucking Americana! I was the
first one, too. Are you a virgin?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.
I’m a thirty-two year old woman, who looks like THIS,” she said. Truth was, she’d
never once had vaginal sex as Brenda Wade.
She’d given a few BJs, all while in college, but her cherry wasn’t
busted until King Pimp caught her at age nineteen. “Besides, I admitted downstairs that King
Pimp popped my cherry thirteen years ago.”
She glanced down at his underwear as he pulled off his jocky shorts. “Man,
you really should wear clean underwear when visiting a hooker. That’s just nasty.”
“I like nasty.”
“Nasty is extra after tonight. Don't forget if you want to fuck me again,”
she said, removing her top. His eyes
bugged out as her 38Gs dropped and jostled enticingly. She paused to rub them, since the top always
hurt just a tad. He seemed to be
enjoying the show, if his major boner was any indication. “Fifty buys you a fuck and suck. I suck you hard, then
you climb on and finish it up between my legs.
Anything deviating from that scenario is extra. Do you want extra?”
“Damn! You haven’t
even knocked out your first trick and you are already talking like a pro,” he
said.
“I heavily researched my new…um…job, right after I agreed
to submit to King Pimp’s tender mercies,” she admitted, shrugging. “If I’m going to be a disgusting whore, then
at least I can be the BEST whore in the whore house. I will not accept anything less than the
best, no matter what I do.”
“Is licking my balls extra?”
“No. Comes with
cocksucking, in my book,” she said, and slide her thong bottoms down mile long
legs. Standing up, she touched her power
belt. “On or off?”
“On! Only the top
and bottoms off,” he said. “I want to
see who I am fucking, I want to see me fucking Ms
Americana, with no doubt about it.”
“Then let’s get this party started,” Ms Americana said,
seizing his cock and pulling him toward the bed. Pushing him atop the bed, she crawled atop
him. Then she fed him a big, fat
tit. “You’ve been staring at these long
enough. Taste and enjoy.”
While his hard, sticky cock poked, slapped and rubbed all
over her inner thighs and rump, the john grabbed a perfect pair of 38G super
tits and went to town. He enjoyed the
way she yipped and jumped when he gently nibbled her rock hard, engorged and
highly sensitive nipples, while squeezing, caressing, and otherwise savoring
her titanic tits like a big boy should.
Since he was her first, Ms Americana let him take his time and enjoy her
tits for a good twenty minutes, before she took charge.
“Time for the end game, baby,” Ms Americana said. She started kissing and nuzzling her way down
his neck, across his chest and belly, and finally arrived at his aching, rock
hard cock. She used all of her talents
to give him the very best head, cocksucking and ball licking possible. “Mmmmgggghhh.”
“I can’t take it anymore!” he cried. “I want to fuck you now!”
Ms Americana rolled off the john. He slipped up atop her, so she spread her
long, shapely legs. Wider. Then she took him in hand, and guided him to
her sopping wet, fiery hot twat. The
john pushed all the way in with one long, smooth thrust.
“Oh yes! Yes! That is so damn good!”
“Uuuuuggghh,” Ms Americana cried,
back arching and arms thrown wide. “Oh
baby! That’s how to do it! Fuck me!
Fuck me hard!”
“Damn, you are the tightest whore I ever fucked.”
“Oh, you are so big,” she groaned, feeling her spectacular
body changing, becoming hotter, the butterflies burned away. “I think I am…going to ….COMMMMMMEEEEE!”
As the former Queen of Justice gawked up at her john,
amazed, he doubled the rate he was pumping into her. He was trying so hard to not come yet. He wanted it to last forever. But he lost it, filling her pussy with hot,
sticky cream.
“Oh, Great Liberty I am….Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeee!”
The john just held his cock deep inside her, propped up
above her and grinning down at her. He
looked so damned pleased with himself, too.
Strangely, she didn’t feel particularly displeased, either.
“Time to get back to work,” Ms Americana said
breathlessly. She rolled him off her, then before he crawled off the bed she took his sticky cock
in hand, and lowed her mouth to his lap.
He watched in amazement as she licked and sucked his cock and balls
clean. “I aim to please. Remember me next time you come to the Palace,
baby.”
“Hell, if this is your standard suck and fuck, you just got
yourself a regular, Ms Americana,” he said, enthusiastically. “I’ll visit you every payday, twice a month.”
“And I’ll take special care of you, too, baby,” Ms
Americana said, smiling sultrily. While
he dressed, she gave herself a whore bath at the sink, then
pulled on her top and bottoms. Once they
were both dressed, she escorted him back down to the main lobby. “Bye-bye, baby. Come again.”
Ms Americana watched him walk out the front door, wishing
she had that option. But she had
promised King Pimp, and she was a woman of word. So she glanced around the room, seeing all
the eager-eyed men waiting their turn at her.
Before she could make a choice, a large Hispanic man stepped out of the
crowd. He was tall and broad, and a
notorious drug dealer and gang banger.
"I'm next, Americana," Hernando said, his voice a
hoarse rasp due to an injury she caused two years back. "We got issues to work out, and those
are best done with my dick up her fat ass."
She looked past him to her pimp. King Pimp smiled cruelly.
"He won't hurt you," the pimp said. "Not badly."
"You only said I can't MARK her."
"You can be as rough as you want, just don’t leave any
marks," King Pimp said. "I
mean, she's Ms Americana! This night is
dedicated to destroying and PUNISHING her.
Have at it, my friend."
"Wait," Ms Americana cried, wild-eyed. "This man HATES me!"
"Then I suggest you be real damn submission and accommodating,
Ameri-ho," King Pimp said, grinning wickedly.
"That's right, Ameri-whore," Hernando growled,
and backhanded her brutally.
"Ugghhh!" she cried,
spun around and slammed up against the wall.
"Great Liberty, my first trick forced me to climax and now I'm
DE-POWERED! I'm helpless to defend
myself."
"Perfect," Hernando sneered, forcing her hard
against the wall, her arms thrown wide.
He reached down and ripped off her red, white and blue patriotically
themed thong, before unzipping.
"I've wanted to do this since the first time I seen your fine fat
ass on TV, Americana. I bet your ass is
cherry, isn't it?"
"No! Not up the
ass," she cried, held firmly against the wall by the bigger, stronger
Latino. She felt his cock slipped up
between her satin-skinned butt cheeks, then press against her now throbbing
sphincter. "Wait, don't dry fuck
my….AAAAAAASSSSSS! Yyyyeeeeeeeeeeooooooooooowwwwwwwwww!"
"Hot damn, this bitch’s ass is TIGHT," Hernando
cried, really getting into a hard, fast rhythm as he reamed out her super tight
butt hole.
"Aaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeee! You're ripping my in half! Oh, Goddess, make him stop," she cried,
writhing helplessly against the cold marble wall as Hernando fucked her ass
with relish. Then his big hands reached
around and grabbed her 38Gs in a vice like grip. New pain erupted, but to her surprise the
pain quickly changed to pleasure. Incredible pleasure. "Mmmmmmmmmggggggghhhh, oh Goddess. Oh, yes.
Oh, my Goddess yes! Yes! Yes!
Oh yes!"
"What a raging PUTA,"
Hernando laughed.
"I'm a puta!" the super sexy, vanquished
vigilante cried. "Great Liberty, I
am….going to…CCCCCCCOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMEEEE!"
"Wow, screaming in pain to screaming in pleasure in about
two minutes," King Pimp said.
"She's a bigger whore than I thought. Boys and girls, Ms Americana was BORN to
whore."
"A super whore," Hernando groaned, and then he
lost it. She felt his cock convulse, and
then hot jizm filled her poop chute.
"Aaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeee!"
Ms Americana cried. "I have been
TAMED!"
"Damn right," Hernando said, pulling out and
spewing a few more times on her shapely butt.
Then Ms Americana groaned low and long, as she slowly slid down the wall
to the floor. "Next!"
King Pimp seized the super statuesque super heroine by her
long, black hair and pulled her to her wobbly feet. Then he half-dragged her to the middle of the
entrance hall. Beverly Beavers was
waiting, and locked leg spreaders on her ankles, forcing her feet to be just a
little more than shoulder width apart.
Then her wrists were handcuffed behind her back, before a slave collar
was fastened around her neck. Finally,
the legendary Queen of Justice was forced to bend over, legs straight, knees
locked, and a short chain secured her collar to the middle of the spreader bar,
leaving her face crotch-high.
"This isn't necessary," Ms Americana groaned,
clearly in distress.
"On the contrary," King Pimp said. "While you were upstairs with your first
john, we had a vote and this is what was decided on. You will spend the rest of the night like
this, taking two men at a time, front and back." He patted her sweet round ass, enjoying how
warm and soft it felt. "Line up,
boys! Pay Beverly if
you want her up the back side, and pay me if you want to fuck her mouth."
Two very long lines of lecherous, horny men formed up. Before Ms Americana realized the true depths
of her predicament, a thick shaft was shoved between her full red lips.
"MMmmggghhh!"
And then another dick was thrust deep into her sopping wet
pussy a few seconds later. And thus the
High and Mighty Queen of Justice, the nation's premier super heroine, the
legendary Ms Americana spent the next five hours servicing more men than she
ever imagined possible. Only her
superior Aphrodite enhanced body was able to take that terrible abuse, but she
took it in stride.
Finally, everyone was sated. Or out of money to continue
fucking her. King Pimp collected
all of the money, and it was quite a bit, too.
He walked away from his newest sex slave, while Beverly freed the
defeated and debauched super heroine of her cruel restraints. Then on wobbly feet, Ms Americana ushered
through the crowd to her lord and master, King Pimp.
Delta City's richest and most notorious pimp sat atop a
magnificent throne. He had shed his
clothes, and waited for her completely naked.
The sexy super heroine felt her belly quaking and quivering, spying his
enormous semi-flaccid cock waiting for her.
"All good things must end, Ms Americana," King
Pimp's booming bass voice filled the room.
"You have given yourself to me freely and with full knowledge of
what awaited you. You have CHOSEN to be
my WHORE. Now it is finally time to seal
the deal, for once and all time."
"I am a woman of my word, King Pimp," Ms
Americana whispered, head bowed.
"Though I despise hookers with all my being, I submitted to you in
full knowledge of what my fate would be.
I am yours to use and abuse, however you see fit." She reached back and unfastened her power
belt. "I, Ms Americana, surrender
the source of my super powers."
She placed the rolled up power belt in King Pimp's hands. But when she reached up to remove her mask,
he stopped her.
"Mount me," King Pimp said, his cock rising
quickly.
The super sexy vigilante nodded, and took a deep
breath. Then she straddled his lap, and
guided his ten inch cock to her pussy as she lowered herself. Within seconds, the sexy super heroine was
impaled and sliding down his thick black shaft.
"Oooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."
Ms Americana began bouncing up and down on his cock. Within moments she was riding him with wild
abandon, head thrown back, eyes closed and a long wanton groan continuously
rolling out of her full red lips. The
top pimp in Sugar Town watched her bouncing, jostling tits for a long time,
before he finally seized them and began fondling her. She cried out with pleasure, and climaxed.
"Uuuuuuuuggggggggggggghhhhhhhhh!"
"Who is your daddy?" King Pimp demanded.
"You are my daddy."
"Who is your MASTER?"
"You, King Pimp, are my master," she said, then
climaxed again. "Aaaaaiiiieeee!
You are my master! Aaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeee! Oh Goddess, King Pimp is my master! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuggggggggggghhhhh!"
King Pimp grabbed her waist length, silky black hair and
jerked. Her head snapped back, held
tightly. Baby blues wide with fear and
dread, she held her breath as his free hand reached up to her face. The crowd grew quiet. It was if everyone held their breath for the
great unveiling.
"The woman hiding behind Ms Americana's mask
is….," King Pimp called melodramatically.
Then he slowly peeled off the blue, star-spangled mask. "….is….Brenda Wade? Really?"
"Really," she said.
"BRENDA WADE!
My God, I have captured the two sexiest, most fuckable women in Delta
City, rolled into one super sexy whore," King Pimp cried with joy. "Tell the world,
Brenda Wade and Ms Americana are one in the same, and I OWN THEM BOTH."
THE END